Dreams Come True
by bobthetree123
Summary: Brennan begins to have dreams that start to come true in reality. What will happen when she visualises her and Booth together, and Booth's death - at her own hands?
1. Startling Effect

So its me again. This was a random idea that came to me while i was in the middle of exams - it might not make sense now but hopefully it will later.

Thanks for this chapter goes to Cameron who gave me great support

Thanks, and please enjoy!

* * *

Brennan could feel the weight of the day play on her eyelids. She struggled to kepe them open during her silent dinner. She managed to drag herself into bed. But she couldn't fall asleep. No matter how hard she tried, her eyes refused to close, refused to let her slip into her peaceful dreams. She rolled around her bed, her sheets matting into a tangled knot. She ended up falling into unconciousness thanks to the help of a few pills. Her mind closed, her eyes became groggy, and she fell into an uneasy sleep.

*

Not unusally, her dreams were filled with images of the current case. She often ran the scenario over in her mind, the evidence that had already been studied. She usually dreamed of the nicks, markings and formations that had been found, and what they could lead to.

But that night was different.

She walked through the glass doors of the Jeffersonian. The bright silver construction blinked in the sunlight. She walked over to the steel table; dull silver from the many bodies which had lay there. A skeleton now occupied the table, its jaw gaping wide open in a symbol of terror. Brennan buttoned up her lab coat, and slapped on the familiar white gloves.

Zack was already studying the victim. "The bone appears to be crushed here, as if hit with a blunt object but much force – a bat, perhaps. One used in baseball."

Cam, too, was leaning over the victim, inspecting the yellowing bones. "There seems to be some sort of black mark on the victim. It looks like some sort of organic substance. Get Hodgins to check."

Brennan strode forward. Cam looked up. "Ah, Dr Brennan, you're here." She moved out the way so Brennan could take a look.

"There's a greenstick fracture along the distal radius. The ribs appear to be broken." She glanced down at the chest. "Zack, you said that the bone was struck with a bat, correct?"

"Yes, or something of similar density and force."

"But there's a sharp nick on the same bone that was struck..." She mused.

"So the victim could have been stabbed, and then beaten?" Zack asked.

"No," Brennan murmured. "It's too small to be made by a knife. Take a closer look, Zack."

Zack nodded and followed his orders. He studied the bone for several minutes, then turned and walked off the platfrom, disappearing around the corner. A few minutes later he came back with a silver tray holding a variety of instruments, including knives, from pocket to kitchen, and even a razor. He then set about to comparing each item to the mark on the bone.

Brennan turned to Hodgins. "Any idea on the substance?"

"Yeah. It's an organic matter made mostly from polymer."

"Rubber?" she asked, familiar with the substance.

"Hmm, though I can't find evidence of bug life in there which really annoys me but I'll keep looking." He turned back to his computer.

"Hey, Bones!" Brennan turned at the familiar call. Booth walked in through the glass doors, a file swinging in his hand. Brennan felt something inside her change.

But as he jumped up the platform, a strange sound filled her ears, a kind of knocking. "Bones?" she heard Booth ask, anxious to the expression on her face. She covered her ears. "Bones?" his voice drifted away.

Brennan awoke with a start. She heard a knocking sound, and sat up. Someone was at the door. Without looking at her clock, she jumped up to answer it.

"Booth!" she asked, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

Booth was speechless for a moment as he saw Brennan in her nightdress. She was usually prepared and dressed when he arrived, and this new style made him uncomfortable.

"Uh, it's 8. Wednesday. I pick you up." He soudned as though he was talking to a six year old.

Brennan rubbed her eyes and glanced towards the clock on her pale wall. Sure enough, it was eight o'clock. She glanced back to Booth sheepishly.

"Sorry, I guess I slept in. Do you mind?" She gestured towards the couch. Booth nodded and sat down, pulling his legs up onto the coffee table, exaggerating his comfort. Brennan rolled her eyes and went back to her room.

They left in silence, his hand holding the small of her back. They made small talk in the car, but mostly Brennan glanced out of the window. Her dream had confused her. She usually dreamt of experiences that had happened, but she did not recognize finding a greenstick fracture or any black substance. She gazed out the window.

Booth noticed her distressed look. "You ok?" he asked. "You look all sad."

Brennan shook her head, not distracting her gaze. "I'm fine."

Booth decided not to pursue the subject.

They walked into the Jeffersonian, his arm slung casually over her shoulder. No-one gave them a second glance as they walked in. Brennan moved to her office, and Booth raised his eyebrows. "There's a case!" he prompted, trying to lure her to the platform. But she shook her head.

"I just need to do something for a second."

He shrugged, and once again didn't ask. Brennan was glad. She didn't feel like explaining anything. She went into her office and sat down at her desk.

"I just have some files I need to complete by tonight," she answered in respnse to Booth's unasked question. He nodded, and seemed to accept the answer – for the time being.

Brennan saw him flop onto the couch, sinking into the deep red cushion. He rested his head back, and Brennan heard him groan and close his eyes. She moved her eyes to her desk and flickered aimlessly through the stack of files that lay in wait. She opened one, her eyes not concentrating on the tiny black script. She blinked a few times, and the words came into focus. She blinked again, but even though her mind was in concentrate mode, it wasn't taking anything into concept. She just wanted to rest.

After about fifteen minutes, Booth unexpectedly jumped up. "I have to just run to the FBI; get the file for the new case."

Brennan nodded, preoccupied. "Ok."

Booth walked out of the door.

Brennan sat back, now able to stop pretneding to work. Why was she feeling so out of it? Was it because of that dream? What was so unsettling about it? She really needed to work, but didn't fell like talking to anybody. Well, she never did anyway. She dragged herself out of her chair, staggering a second as the room came back into focus. She peeled her coat off the back of her leather chair and shrugged it over her shoulders. The familiar feel of the cotton on her skin was comforting. She walked out of the room, out into the open. The familiar smell of dead bodies wafted through her nose. She breathed in deeply.

And then it started to get daunting.

It was the feeling that something was reoccuring. She wasn't sure how, but it her bones, her movements, her feelings, she just felt as though she had experienced this before. She shrugged off the feeling, knowing that it was impossible.

Yet she couldn't get rid of the idea. It felt strangely familiar as she walked up the platform steps.

And then everything seemed to happen in slow motion. She walked over to the steel table; now occupied by a skeleton. Brennan buttoned up her lab coat, and slapped on the familiar white gloves.

Zack was already studying the victim. "The bone appears to be crushed here, as if hit with a blunt object but much force – a bat, perhaps. One used in baseball."

Cam, too, was leaning over the victim, inspecting the bones. "There seems to be some sort of black mark on the victim. It looks like some sort of organic substance. Get Hodgins to check."

Brennan strode forward. Cam looked up. "Ah, Dr Brennan, you're here." She moved out the way so Brennan could take a look.

"There's a greenstick fracture along the distal radius. The ribs appear to be broken." She glanced down at the chest. She couldn't help it, though she was starting to get a cold feeling spreading through her skin. "Zack, you said that the bone was struck with a bat, correct?"

"Yes, or something of similar density and force."

"But there's a sharp nick on the same bone that was struck..." She mused.

"So the victim could have been stabbed, and then beaten?" Zack asked.

"No," Brennan murmured. "It's too small to be made by a knife. Take a closer look, Zack."

Zack nodded and followed his orders. He studied the bone for several minutes, then turned and walked off the platfrom, disappearing around the corner. A few minutes later he came back with a silver tray holding a variety of instruments, including knives, from pocket to kitchen, and even a razor. He then set about to comparing each item to the mark on the bone.

Brennan turned to Hodgins. "Any idea on the substance?"

"Yeah. It's an organic matter made mostly from polymer."

"Rubber?" she asked.

"Hmm, though I can't find evidence of bug life in there which really annoys me but I'll keep looking." He turned back to his computer.

"Hey, Bones!" Brennan turned at the familiar call. Booth walked in through the glass doors, a file swinging in his hand.

Her blood had turned completely cold by now. She wasn't sure what was happening, but it was starting to scare her.

"Bones?" she heard Booth ask, anxious to the expression on her face. She closed her eyes. "Bones?" he asked, louder this time. She started to feel dizzy.

"I think I need to sit down."

Everyone was staring at her now. Booth put his arm over her shoulder and guided her towards her office, then sat her down on the lounge and stared deeply into her eyes.

"Bones, tell me, what's wrong? You haven't been yourself all morning."

Should she tell him? Tell him that she had dreamed about finding a fracture and a black substance, and now her dreamw as coming true? Tell him she was insane? Tell him she was seeing things? She knew it couldn't be true, yet everything that had just happened was _exactly _the way she had dreamed it.

No. She couldn't tell him. He'd think her as nuts. She shivered.

Booth noticed. "Do you want a blanket?" he asked, lifting the rug off the couch. She shook her head.

"I just need some rest," she whispered hoarsely. Booth nodded, and put gentle pressure on her arm, laying her down. She obliged, but only pretended to rest, if only to keep Booth happy. He laid the blanket over her, and then quietly walked out of the room. He heard the quiet exchange between him and Angela, who had clearly been waiting outside. But she heard Booth tell Angela not to disturb her and smiled inwardly.

*

The rest of the day went without incident. The others often stared worringly at her, glancing her way in case she looked like she might faint. She often had to reassure them she was fine, and then started to get quite annoyed.

She was almost scared to go home. Angela, Cam and Booth all offered their homes to her but she neglected their efforts, promising she'll be fine.

She could tell they didn't believe her.

Booth drove her home, glancing cautiously at her all the time. She sighed angrily. "I'm fine. I just felt dizzy. That's all."

She heard him quietly scoff but ignored him. She didn't even mutter a goodbye as she slammed the car door, and knew she had hurt his feelings, but she didn't care. They were all too overprotecticve.

She tried to stay up as long as possible, but sleep couldn't evade her forever. Finally, she felt the unconciousness slipping in, and she let it take her away, though scared of what she might find.

* * *

It'd make me really happy if you guys review my story - see wwther i keep writing it or not, if its a good enough story to carry on. Please tell me what you think.

Thanks for reading :)

Amy (bobthetree123)


	2. Very Stimulating

Hey guys! Sorry I haven't updated for soo long but I've been busy - school, other stories, you know, the usual. Thankyou for all those who reviewed my last chapter. And, just for spoilers on my story: she does visualises her and booth together. I know that may spoil it but you can probably sorta tell it would be coming.

Please enjoy!

* * *

She slept dreamlessly that night. No, that was incorrect. She dreamed about Booth, smiling to herself as she ran his hands over the protruding muscles in his arms. He slid his fingers around her neck, rubbing the knotted soreness away with his tendor touch. She felt a shiver run down her spine as his skin collided with hers. She closed her eyes and whipped her head backwards, a soft groan emitting from her mouth. His head leaned forward, and his gentle lips kissed her pale flesh in the hollow beneath her throat. She groaned even louder....

*

"Booth.....Booth!"

"Bones!! Bones, are you okay? Bones, answer me!"

The call was distant. She didn't want anyone interrupting her time with Booth. She ignored the voice, letitng her skin melt underneath his lips....

"Bones, open up!"

Brennan groaned and opened her eyes. She saw the roof, the pale dust marks skidding along the plaster, the fan whirling softly. She no longer felt Booth holding her. She clawed for him, searching for his gentle hands.

They met empty air.

She sat up, groaning as her muscles contracted. She heard the banging on the door.

"Bones!"

Typical.

"What?" she called out, her voice groggy from sleep.

"Open up!"

Brennan climbed out of bed and opened the door.

"Why do you keep waking me up?"

Booth looked surprised. Her face was lighter then usual, grey lines marking her eyes. She looked like hell.

"Bones, are you okay?"

"Yeah, why? And why are you here so....early...." She had just seen the time.

10 am.

She staggered back. "I'm late! Again! I'm never late!!!"

"I heard you groaning. Are you sick?"

Brennan was rushing to her room, pulling clothes from the closet and throwing them on the bed. "No, I'm fine!" She called. She was _never _going to tell him about her real dream.

Or that she _often _had that same dream.

*

Booth waited patiently in her lounge room. He wondered why Brennan was getting later and later each day? Did it have something to do with that dizzy fiasco the day before? Was she ill? Was something preventing her to sleep?

Questions buzzed through his mind. He was concerned for his partner. This wasn't like her.

She came out of her bedroom in a simple set of jeans and button-up shirt, but she still looked stunning. Her hair shone a glossy brown from the quick shower she had just run, and her face was lit up like it was meant to.

"You look great, Bones! Let me get your coat," he said, reaching for it.

"No, I'll get it," she protested, striding forward to take the jacket off the stand right next to Booth. "I'm not royalty, Booth."

"You are to me."

Bones reached the stand at the same time as Booth placed his hand on the material. Their skin touched, and Booth felt the electricity spark between them.

She didn't seem to notice it, though, and soon removed her hand from under his.

He groaned inwardly, wondering when she was going to figure out his feelings for her.

*

The road-trip was silent. Though it was only a ten minute journey, Brennan soon found her head lolling to the side, her eyes shutting against her will. The black light shone behind her eyes, and soon was obstructed by colour and pictures. She saw Angela, dragging her to her computer in her office, showing her a video at a puppy she was thinking about purchasing. The puppy was white, tender brown spots covering its fur. Its eyes flitted up towards the camera, and Angela turned to Brennan, asking for her opinion. But she didn't say anything, just stared into the puppies pleading eyes.

She felt someone gently shake her shoulder, and knew it was Booth. She lifted her head.

"Bones, are you sure you're alright? Maybe you should take the day off..."

"I can't, Booth! I have remains to identify. They have families, friends, lives."

"They can wait. I really think you should go home, Temperance. Get some sleep."

Brennan responded by pushing herself out of the SUV. Booth sighed and followed her into the Jeffersonian.

Booth ran to catch up with her marching speed, and placed his hand on her back, guiding her, though having no doubts that she knew her way.

They were greeted by Angela.

She knew that Brennan wasn't late because of sex. She could tell it in her eyes.

They were dead.

"Hey, guys! Bren, turn around, go home, and sleep. You look terrible. Booth, come in."

Brennan tried to argue but Booth cut her off.

"See Bones? You never argue with Angela. I think you should listen to her."

"No!" Brennan protested. "It's my own fault. Where's the body?"

Booth gave Angela an exasperated look, recieving a shrug in return. Booth grunted and followed his partner up onto the platform.

"Dr B! What are you doing here? I thought you'd be at home, basking in the eternal glory of anthropological documentaries!" Hodgins said as way of greeting.

Brennan ignored him.

She leaned over the skull, taking in the marks.

"Hodgins, have you got any more on the rubber?"

"No, sorry. I've run it through everything but I have no idea why it's there."

"Ok..." She said, turning back to the computer. She zoomed in on the image of the cranuim, studying the surface. She zoomed further, the particles creating a pattern.

"Huh."

"Huh as in good or as in bad?" Booth asked.

"Huh as in I have no idea what it means yet. Go grab some coffee, Booth."

"Uh uh, no way. I'm staying here – I don't want you passing out again."  
"I'll be fine, Booth."

He didn't move. Instead he crossed his ankles and his arms in a defensive position.

He wasn't going anywhere. Of course he wasn't.

"Hey, Bren, we got DNA results this morning. They're in my office. I'll go and get them."

"Ok. Why did you need to tell me that, Angela? You were perfectly capable of getting them and giving them to me."

"Can you come with me, please?"

Brennan looked around, peeled off her gloves and followed Angela into her office.

*

Angela turned to face her as soon as they were in the doorway.

"What's going on?"

Of course. She wanted to know everything. Typical Angela.

"Nothing, Ange. I've just been a bit tired lately."

"Dreaming of Booth?"

"W-what! No!"

But she hesitated just a second too long.

"Ahhh! So, what happened in it?"

Brennan groaned to herself. "I dreamed of.....having sexual intercourse with Booth."

Angela smirked. "And?"

"And...what?"

"How was it?"

Brennan grinned. "He is very muscular, and _very _stimulating."

"Huh. So he's good?"

"He's great."

"Now just wait until the real thing."

"Ange, that's never going to happen."

"We'll just wait. Anyway, I want your opinion on something."

Angela grabbed Brennan's hand and dragged her to her computer. She clicked on the mouse, upbringing a video file.

"I found this little guy in a home. I want to know what you think."

A video footage of a small terrier yapped on the screen. Brennan felt that cold feeling she had experienced yesterday, and tried to fight passing out again. The unnatural circumstance were starting to scare her, as now it was not just a one-off thing. She wondered whether she should see a doctor. Then again, it was jsut a dream...._of the future!_

"So...what do you think?"

"Of what?"

"The dog!"

"It's cute."

"Duh, Bren. Do you think I should get him? He's adorable!"

"Well-"

"Ok, don't give me all that animal anthropology crap. Do you like him. Yes or no."

"Yes."

"Good."

"Do you have the file?"

"Yeah. His name's Jester, and he's a terrier cross-"

"I mean the case file, Ange."

"Oh, no. Cam has it."

"Then why'd you call me in?"

"To see the dog!"

Brennan groaned and turned around, heading back to the platform.

She made a decision.

If she experienced another one of these 'alternate-universe-things or whatever Booth would call them, she would tell Booth.

He would know what to do.

* * *

Thanks for reading, guys. Now i would really love it if you told me how i did, any errors, and ideas for the story, how you like/dislike it, or any other comments, but please. It doesn't take long just to click the button and review. I mean, you _read _the story, so it cant be that hard.

Thanks for reading! Till next time


	3. The Quiet Garden

Thanks to those who reviewed last chapter. I appreciate it. Any ideas for the rest of the story would be great!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bones**

Just to let everyone know I will be updating a lot more - I'm on holidays now so I'm trying to update every night.

* * *

She dreamed of memories. Of happiness. Those days after she met Booth. The days her life began to brighten.

She remembered every time he had guided her with his hand on her back, every time he casually stretched his arm around her shoulders, every time he held her when she needed someone to cry on. Every time he had kissed her.

Her eyes flitted open as her dream ended. She wondered how her day would go. She couldn't think of anything that she had dreamed that could be repeated, but she wasn't sure these days. She knew she had to be careful.

She glanced at the clock. 7:25. She had to be ready for Booth. She couldn't face the embarresment of arriving to work late 3 days in a row. Then there would be questions, concerned faces, pills shoved into her face.

She quickly got out of bed and dressed, opening the door just as Booth was about to knock. She smiled fully at him, making him respond in a puzzle expression.

"Well, don't you look happy this morning? And on time."

"Yeah, I slept great last night!" It was easy to lie, which was unusual.

She flitted past him and bounded down the stairs, leaving a confused Booth outside her apartment. She knew she was being over-confident, but she knew that if she gave in to her true emotions he would find holes. In truth, she was dead tired, weak, and just dying for some time alone. But if she told that to Booth, he would think she didn't want to work with him any more or suggest they visit Sweets.

So she played along with it. But she could tell that he found her holes. He squinted at her strangely, and cocked his head. She sighed. He was always good at reading people.

"Fine," she huffed. "I feel terrible. You can't do anything about it."

He shrugged. "Fine. Your choice."

What?

It was only 5 minutes into the car trip that Brennan realised he was driving her in the opposite direction from the Jeffersonian.

"Where are we going, Booth?"

"I just want to take you somewhere. Somewhere I go when I feel like crap."

She didn't respond, just let him drive.

He pulled up at the Botanic Gardens. He softly took her hand and led her to a bridge overshadowing a flat river. Lilies floated unnoticed on the smooth water. A flat, small rock sat in the middle. Two trees joined over their heads, flowers in full bloom.

"It's beautiful, Booth."

"Yeah, I know." He leaned onto the railing. "Bones, I know you've been lying to me. To the squints. To everyone. I unerstand if you don't want to tell me. But just know that you can trust me. If you tell me a secret, you can sleep safely knowing it will be kept. I'm here for you, Bones." He squeezed her hand.

She was tempted to tell him everything – about her strange dreams, about her lack of sleep and troubling interventions. He would listen to her, give her support. He was what she needed.

But she couldn't do it. So far it was only occasionally. Only when it became solid and recurring would she pursue questions and tell Booth.

She looked out over the river. "I just need sleep," was all she said. She leaned her head on Booth's shoulder.

They Booth stood motionless, overlooking the flowing water, each bathing in the other's personal glory.

They felt alone, the only two people left on earth.

And it was perfect.

*

Back at the lab, everyone was quiet. There was no unnecessary talking form Angela, or lame jokes from Hodgins. And everyone seemed to kepe a slight distance from Brennan, just in case she collapsed or had some sort of mental attack.

Brennan leaned over the body. "There's some rubbing on this bone…" She squinted closer at it. "Zack?" She called. "What do you make of this?"

Zack peered at the body. "It appears as though something with equal density was lying against this bone. My guess is more bone."

"This means there's another victim. But my guess is he's been moved – that the rubbing was caused _before _they were buried."

"Hodgins!" She called over to his workstation. "Anything organic to suggest different locations?"

"No, sorry Dr B," he called back, walking up onto the platform.

"Ok." She stared hard at the bones. They must be somewhere. The answer was always in the bones…

Images began to flash inside her mind. She gripped the steel table, anxious not to collapse. Her knuckles began to turn white with the effort. She saw quick sections of colour, flitting in and then quickly out. Pictures came and went, some staying longer in her mind.

Her dream with Booth. The puppy. Last night's dinner. The garden. The rock in the centre of the lake.

The rock.

Her head snapped up. Everyone was staring at her.

"The rock!"

No-one moved.

She walked over to Booth. "Booth, you remember that garden you took me to this morning? And the bridge?"

"Bones, shoosh!" He tried to hush her, feeling the questioning looks on the back of his head. He heard Angela softly whistle.

"There was a rock in the middle of a river. It was small. But I have a feeling it was a skull. It could be the second body."

"Are you sure, Bones? I mean, it could just be a rock."

"Can you take me back there?"

"Sure, uh, ok."

This time at the garden there was no delicate holding of hands, or the gazing at the startling flowers. Brennan marched straight to the river, and began to walk in.

"Bones! You're ruining your pants!"

But she was right. It was a second body.

*

Booth drove her home early; wanting to make sure she got plenty of sleep. He walked into her house with her.

"Thanks, Booth. I'll see you tomorrow." She turned to go to her room.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no. I'm staying here until I'm sure you fall asleep."

"Booth!"

He stood there, arms crossed, deadly look on his face.

"I'll leave as soon as you're alseep."

She growled. "Fine."

She marched into her room and slammed the door.

As she changed into her night-gown, she wondered why she had given into Booth. She could have made him leave.

But the truth was she didn't want him to. Maybe if he stayed there her dreams would be peacefull. It was irrational and unscientific but it might work.

She walked out into the living room. Booth was laying on the couch, shoes off, tie thrown onto the floor, the jacket leaning over a chair. He whistled softly when he saw Brennan in her pajamas.

"Ok, fine, see? I'm going to bed. Goodbye."

"I'm staying until you are _asleep_!"

She sat down on the edge of the couch. "You're right. Thankyou, Booth."

She walked back to her bed. Maybe if he was here, it would be _harder _to fall asleep?

But unconsiousness overtook her. She was soon dead on her pillow.

*

Booth softly opened Brennan's door. She was calm, asleep. Her breath came softly, evenly.

He turned to walk out the door, as promised, when he heard his name.

"Booth…" She groaned. He stopped. Was she in trouble?

But she was knocked out. Her eyes were closed. She was clearly asleep. Then why was she saying his name?

She began to wildly thrash around in her bed. The sheets fell off the sides, tangling into a heap. She screamed his name into the pillow. He was beginning to panic? Was she in trouble? Having a fit?

Then she began to gron soflty and his thoughts turned in a new direction. She wasn't having a fit – she was dreaming of-

"Booth!" She screamed again. She began panting. Botoh wondered whether he should leave or stay to see if she was alright.

Then siddenly, she stopped. She rolled over onto her side once more and began to breathe deeply.

Booth turned back. Maybe he should stay here, just in case.

He went back out and made himself comfortable on the couch.

* * *

Please review with any comments - I would greatly appreciate it. If I get more reviews on this story then on my other story I'm updating then I will update this one sooner.

So if you want more, please review!

Thanks for reading!


	4. Blind Drunk

Brennan woke up at 7:30. She groaned and stretched. She couldn't remember her dream at all. She knew it had Booth in it, but no obvious markers formed in her head.

She padded out of the room, her hair wild around her face. She rubbed her hand across her eyes and sat on the couch.

And landed on 190 pounds of Booth.

She yelled and jumped up. Booth grunted and woke up, looking startled.

"Morning Bones!" He said.

"What are you doing here?" she cried.

"Well, you seemed really bad last night. I wanted to make sure you were all right."

"Well, you could have just called this morning, or seen me at work." She was beginning to cool off, her rational voice overtaking once more.

"I could have," he agreed. "Did you sleep well last night?" he asked innocently.

"Yes, I did. What about you – were you comfortable?"

"Yeah, great! Hey, uh, can I use your shower, Bones?" He looked dishevelled. Stubble was beginning to form on his chin and his hair stuck out everywhere. He stood up and walked to the bathroom.

Brennan had begun to replace the blanket back on the couch when she heard the bathroom door slide open. Booth walked out, his bare chest facing her. He was only holding a towel around his waist.

She tried not to stare at his bulging muscles.

"Bones, uh," he seemed to be reviewing his question. "Never mind."

Brennan waited in her room while Booth was in the shower. She tried as hard as she could to remember her dream, but she had no idea. Maybe if she asked Booth – he usually had some idea of dreams.

She waited patiently until he came out. He was dressed in yesterday's clothes – jeans, t-shirt and regular green jacket.

"Booth? I remember dreaming something last night, but I'm not sure what. Would you have any idea?"

Booth's head snapped up. Oh God, what should he tell her? Tell her that she was dreaming about having sex with him, that she was being very vocal about her dream? Did she honestly not remember it? Or was she trying to catch him out. Should he lie?

But she always believed in being honest.

"Um, well, I heard you talking in your sleep...."

"I don- I don't talk in my sleep!" She protested.

He was nervous about how to approach the topic.

"You were screaming, and, uh, yelling my name..."

She immediately remembered. She remembered his soft, muscular hand running over her skin, making her feel as though she were in heaven – if it existed.

She doubled back and her hands flew to her mouth. "Oh no!" she whispered. "Oh my – you heard that? I'm sorry, Booth. I had no idea!"

"That's okay. But, Bones were you dreaming of having sex with me?"

"No."

"Bones, we both know you're a terrible liar. Was I any good?"

"Booth!"

"Fine, I'm sorry. It sounded like you were having a great time, though!"

"Booth!" she screamed in anger. She was blushing, her face lit up bright red. Booth chuckled.

But Brennan was beginning to be worried. If she was having all these wierd, alternate-life flashback things – with no other reasonable way to name them – and they were happening, then what about this dream? Could _that _happen?

"Bones, you ready?" he asked, grabbing her jacket. He slid it onto her arms, pausing long enough to slowly run his hands down. She shivered under his touch.

Maybe it could happen.

If she let it.

*

She decided that the only people she could talk to about this problem were Booth or Angela.

And Booth had just gone out the window.

So it had to be Angela. This wouldn't be pretty.

Brennan knocked quietly on the door and then walked into her office. She turned at the sound.

"Hey, sweetie! Have you finally come to reveal all your inner secrets?"

"I don't have secrets, Ange."

"Come on, everyone has secrets."

"Ange, I need to talk to you about something. I wanted to talk to Booth, but I think this is a female conversation."

"Shoot."

"I've been having these weird....dreams." How could she explain this? "Everything I dream happens in the day. Like deja vu."

"Oh my God. Is that why you've been so tired lately?"

Brennan nodded. "I dreamed about finding that fracture, about the skull, and," she lowered her voice. "Last night, I dreamed about having intercourse with Booth. You know, sexual."

Angela nodded. Of course she knew.

"I'm worried that it will happen... in real life. I know that's neither logical nor rational but..."

"Sweetie, how many times have I told you that it _will _happen?" Angela asked, smirking.

"Ange! Please! What do I do?"

"What about sleeping pills?"

"I hate taking medication."

"Or get drunk – that's how I get knocked out without dreams for a good few nights."

Brennan sighed.

"I'm sorry I'm not more help sweetie. But at least I won't be worried every time you look like you're about to faint. Or maybe I should be worried. Do you want me to worry?"

"No, don't worry. I just don't know what to do."

"I would normally say talk to Booth, but I don't think I should."

"Thanks, Ange. You've been a great help."

Brennan walked out of the room.

"But I didn't...do anything."

*

In her office, Brennan logged onto the Internet. Usualy she searched her own mind or talked to normal human beings such as Booth or Angela.

But when all else failed, she turned to technology.

She had no idea what to type into the server. Deja vu? Living dreams? Psycological help?

It was useless. She felt tired. She went to her cupboard and dug underneath. She pulled out a bottle of whiskey. She took a long haul from the bottle. The alcohol scorched her throat, but hopefully it would work.

She took the bottle back with her to the couch. She drunk some more, hoping to give in to drowsiness. Soon, the black began to cloud her eyes.

She just hoped the 'medication' would create dreamless sleep.

Her head soon fell to the side.

Booth walked into her office. He saw the unconcious Bones on the couch, and the bottle of whiskey still cradled in her hand. He gently prised it open and took a swig himself before placing it back on the desk. Then he gently layed her down and covered her with a blanket.

He kissed the top of her head before walking out.

* * *

Ok, guys, I really need ideas. I really don't want to make this a boring story which nobody will read. Please review your thoughts on the story, any thoughts, good or bad, and ideas. Remember, guys, this is your story, so I want to know what YOU think. Thankyou for all the reviews last chapter.


	5. London

Brennan rounded a corner. She was in the dim streets of London. Dark grey buildings loomed over her, making her cower like a small child. The dank smell rose into her nostrils, making her cringe. Dirt flecked onto her shoes, but she ignored it.

She made her way down the deserted alley. Fog swirled around her. She rounded another corner into another empty pathway. Enormous trash bins lined the walls. She ran through it, unsure where she was heading.

To find Booth.

She didn't know where he was, or why he wasn't with her, but she had to find him.

She ran along the lonely alley, turning her head form side to side, seeing only dirty brick. Her feet were covered in blisters, her face in scratches, the sharp wind cutting into the sores.

She entered an open street. She finally saw him – on the other side. A man was in front of him. He was obviously someone of a higher status in the street world. He was covered in tattoos, and very muscular. He was wearing baggy jeans and a large T-shirt. As Brennan watched, he swung his closed fist around, colliding into Booth's face. Booth's head flipped to the side as he took the blow.

She wanted to cry out, to scream to Booth to run away, to fight back. She tried to yell, but no sound came to her throat. She tried to run, but she was frozen to the spot.

"Booth!" she tried again, but it only came out a hoarse whisper. She saw him take another blow. His face was covered in blood, and Brennan was hoping that the man hadn't been too hard, but inside, she doubted it. In these streets, these people weren't afraid to do anything.

She saw Booth take a final swing to the jaw. He slid down the wall, blood streaming down his face, across his neck and onto his shirt. His pale white singlet was now crimson. He rolled to the side, and onto the concrete.

The man reached down and patted Booth's legs. Brennan was confused – was this a gay man? Was he going to rape Booth? But then he reached into Booth's back pocket and pulled out his wallet.

He began to creep away, leaving Booth unconscious and beaten.

Brennan could finally move. She ran after the man. He turned at the sound of footsteps, and began to run. Brennan followed him. He was so huge, and she was so fast and frail, that she easily caught up to him. She flipped his arm behind his back and kicked the back of his legs. He yelled and went down. Brennan kicked him in his side and punched his face. He cried out and his head snapped back, blood gushing from his nose. She elbowed him in the temple, and he went down.

He was unconscious.

She ran quickly over to Booth. She felt for a pulse and checked his airway. Her fingers were in his mouth and her mouth was right next to it.

Booth choked and began to breath. His eyes rolled to Brennan and became confused by her position. She quickly sat up.

"Hey, Bones! What are you doing here? Where-Where are we?" He asked, disoriented. Brennan cradled his head in her hands. She pulled off her jacket and wiped his face. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he slumped, unconscious once more.

Brennan was afraid. He had lost a lot of blood. She pulled out her mobile and called paramedics. But she was stuck at their current setting. London, somewhere? In a deserted alley? She tried to direct them from the way that she came, but all the different twists and turns was now a memory.

She needed help, and she couldn't get it. But she was a doctor. She had to do what she could. So she slid her hands down his face, putting pressure on the bleeding wounds. She turned her head, just waiting for the sound of an Ambulance.

She was checking her watch every 5 minutes. Finally, after half an hour, they arrived at their resting place. She tried to help as much as she could, worried, but they blocked her off, ignoring her. She begged to ride in the ambulance – she could remember no other transport bringing her here – and they gave in. She rode in the back, holding his hand.

He wasn't looking good. His face was the colour of ash, a purple bruise beginning to form.

They finally arrived at the hospital after twisting through all the side alleys. She used all her 'charm' to try and get into the room, but they wouldn't allow it. They didn't care how famous she was.

So she waited in the bright white room, sitting on stiff chairs, waiting for any news. She heard a woman next to her giggling. She turned to her.

"Excuse me, but could you please-"she stopped.

It was Angela. What was she doing here?

She opened her mouth to ask, but then Angela's face twisted, deformed. She grew a beard, and her silky brown hair turned tight and curly. Angela became Hodgins.

She knew she was dreaming. This couldn't possibly happen in real life.

She rubbed her eyes, shutting them tightly. When she opened them again, she was staring at the TV.

What was wrong with her?

She just hoped that this dream didn't come to life.

* * *

Brennan was staring at a slice of material through a microscope when Booth sauntered in.

"Hey Bones!"

She didn't even look up.

"Hey Bones!" He repeated.

"You're in a very happy mood," she stated, still staring into the microscope.

"Well, you would be too if you had two tickets to London!"

Brennan froze. Her memory spun through her mind. She turned quickly to stare at him.

"And you're coming with me! Isn't that great?!"

"No!" She said. "Booth, don't go to London. I need you here!" She had to somehow stop him going. "Why do you have them, anyway?"

"Well, Cullen's giving me a break. Apparently I've been working very hard lately," he said smugly. Brennan rolled her eyes.

Angela came up onto the platform. She noticed Booth's mood immediately.

"Hey Booth. You're happy. Sex last night?"

Booth chuckled. "Nah, I'm going with Bones to London."

Brennan noticed Angela smirk at being informed that they were going away together – not on a work trip.

"I can't go," she said quickly.

"Why not?" Booth's face fell.

"Well," she struggled to find a reason he'll actually take into consideration. "There's a lot of skulls I have to catalogue, and human remains I have to identify, and-"

"You're making that up!" he said, pointing at her.

"Well, then, I think I have a book signing Wednesday night-"

"Sweetie, your last book came out 2 months ago. Anyway, the other day you told me you were free Wednesday – we were going to have dinner, remember?"

"See?" She shrugged her shoulder's in mock disappointment. "I have to have dinner with Angela. Sorry!"

"Go on, sweetie! You need a holiday. Especially with _Booth_," she winked. Booth smiled at her.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine." But she knew she had to keep Booth away from the streets and at night. She would have to create _any _diversion, do anything, just to keep him safe.

"Alright!" Booth punched the air. "We're going to London!"

* * *

Thankyou for the ideas and reviews last chapter. Please keep them up - I love reviews. And a late merry christmas to all - ok, then, well, have a happy new year. Hopefully I'll have time to update before then


	6. Pizza

Sorry these chapters have been so short, but I havn't had much time to write. Also, i run out of ideas, or it's a good place to stop. Thanks for the reviews!

* * *

They checked in to a large, spacious hotel. Booth was staring at the size of it, glad to be able to spend his vacation in a luxurious hotel and not a run-down bed and breakfast.

This was an advantage of taking a holiday with Brennan.

But much to their disbelief, the receptionist wasn't looking too happy. "I'm sorry Miss, and Sir, but we only have one room left. There's a wedding tomorrow just down the road and we have many guests staying here. But you should be fine with one room. I mean, you're a couple, right?"

Brennan and Botoh exchanged surprised and disbelieving looks. Then they burst out laughing.

"Us? Together? That's insane!" Booth spluttered. "We're partners, that's all."

The receptionist looked puzzle but decided not to pursue to inquiry. "Well, I'm sorry, but that's all I have to offer."

"One second." Booth held up his finger to the receptionist and pulled Brennan aside.

"What do we do? Should we go try and find somewhere else to sleep?" Surprisngly, it was Brennan who asked this.

"What are you talking about, Bones? You stay here and I'll go find somewhere else. That's what we normally do anyway, so this won't be much different."

"No!" Brennan said. She turned back to the receptionist. "Excuse me, but how far away is the closest luxury hotel?"

The receptionist thought. "This is London's main hotel. The next closest grand hotel is on the other side of London."

"Thankyou," Brennan said. "We'll take the room here."

Booth was shocked. "Bones?! What?! What are you doing?"

Brennan shrugged. "You always want to stay in a fancy hotel. It'll be fine, Booth."

Brennan took the room key, smiled at the receptionist, and allowed the bell boy to take her bags. Booth was still speechless, and followed in silence.

When they enetered the room, Booth was gazing around, amazed at the carpeted floor, the large spa-bath, the flatscreen TV.

Brennan walked straight to the bedroom, used to the luxury.

And then she stopped short.

Booth, finally finishing his tour, made his way to the bedroom, and saw what she saw, stopping dead.

There was only one bed.

Booth immediately searched underneath it, looking for a fold out mattress, but couldn't find anything.

"Fine, then. You can take the bed, and I'll sleep on the couch."

"Booth! I paid for a large room. You should enjoy its comfort! What's wrong with sharing a bed?"

She heard Booth scoff. She rolled her eyes. "You're being a baby, Booth. You know what? Fine. Sleep on the couch. That's your decision."

With that, she grabbed her bags and marched into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

In the bathroom, Brennan laid her head back against the wall. She had to keep an eye on Booth. She couldn't let him sleep in another hotel, and she was scared even for him to sleep in another room. She had to watch over him, make sure he didn't leave the apartment by himself, not even to walk down to the shops.

She ran a cold shower, rubbing the sweat off her body. She tried not to think about the upcoming night. Was Booth really stubborn enough to sleep on the couch? Of course he was. Yet he was also being respectful.

She walked out of the bathroom, and saw Booth watching FRIENDS. He turned as she entered. She could see him try to avert his eyes from her body – she was wearing a nightdress. Immediately, she felt uncomfortable. She quickly sat down on the couch and grabbed a cushion.

"Bathroom's free," she told him.

She heard a knock at the door. She walked over to open it, hearing Booth following behind. She pulled it open to a young boy, holding a box. His eyes turned wide and staring when he saw Brennan standing there, with wet hair and a thin, silk nightdress.

But Booth snapepd him out of it, reaching over Brennan's shoulder to punch the guy on the arm. "Hey, buddy, no looking, okay? She's my girl."

Brennan turned in protest but she saw Booth wink, hinting he was lying. She caught on. "Yes, yes, this is my boyfriend. He will pummel you." She heard Booth groan and elbowed him in the ribs.

"I have your order," the boy squeaked. His voice was high, and hadn't broken yet.

"Excellent!" Booth reached forward, swapping the box for some notes. As soon as the order was inside, Booth slammed the door.

"What is this?" Brennan asked.

"Pizza. I couldn't find Chinese." He winked.

They dug into the pizza. After finishing it, Brennan stood up. "Okay, I'm going to go to bed."

"And I'm going to go for a night-time walk, to see the streets of London."

Memory flashed into Brennan's mind.

"No!" She immediately shouted out. Booth stopped, puzzled.

"Bones, why not?"

"You know the streets of London. They're never safe. Heaps of people get mugged and beaten to a pip-"

"Pulp, Bones. Beaten to a pulp."

"Not to mention murders. You've seen the streets of America. London's heaps worse."

"You really don't want me going out there, do you? I'll be fine, Bones."

"No, pleaase. Stay here, Booth." She reached out to all her levels of help, exasperated. "I need your company, I need you to stay here, with me."

Booth stood silently, thinking. She could tell that he thought she was seriously worried about him – which she was.

She knew what would happen if he left the building.

She knew it would be her fault, no matter how hard he would try to convince her it wasn't.

He put his hands up in a sign of surrender, and flopped back on the couch. He flashed his ever famous charm smile at her. "I'll just get comfortable here, then, shall I?"

"Goodnight." Brennan walked into her bedroom, slipping under the covers.

Somehow feeling that the bed was empty because he wasn't there on it with her.

*

The next morning, Brennan woke up vomiting. Booth awoke at the sound, and came to see if everything was alright. It was dark outside – it was 3 am.

"What was in that pizza?" she gasped.

Booth managed a weak smile. "I'll get you some water." He reached for a glass, filling it up from the tap, and handed it to her. But she couldn't keep it down.

Booth's amused look turned to major concern. "You really don't look good, Bones. You're really pale, and you look like you might faint."

"I...feel....weak..." she rasped.

"Look, I'll just run down to the 24 hour store and grab you some medication."

"No!" she choked.

"I'll be fine, Bones!"

He headed towards the door. She tried to follow him, to stop him, knowing what would happen, but she ended up running back to the bathroom, retching once more.

She heard the door slam behind Booth.

She just hoped he would come back alive.

Or was she meant to follow him?

* * *

Please review and tell me what you think. The more reviews, the quicker I'll update. Also, I need some ideas. ANd whether next chapter is where he get's beaten up, or whether they should stay in London more. I'm thining mroe time in London, but I Brennan need's to keep occupying him, so any ideas for that or where this story shoudl go would be really great.

Happy New Year for tomorrow!


	7. Bad Dream

Hmm, not many reviews. Please review!

* * *

Brennan took several deep breaths, and then ran out of teh bathroom, grabbing her jacket and shoes on her way out. She felt as if she could throw up at any moment, but she had to find Booth.

She kenw the consequences if she didn't.

She ran down the hotel stairs and into the lobby. It was empty, the receptionist in bed. No-one was meant to be awake at this hour.

There was no-one she could ask for help, no-one to support her if she doubled over, sick.

She ran out of the double doors and into the cold London air. Her mind brought a flashback of the dark alleys in her dream, with fog swirling around her. Well, there was fog everywhere.

But how much would she have to run, pointlessly searching, to find him?

She ran up to a random man on the street. He was old, a tobacco pipe held in his mouth.

"Excuse me, but where is the closest 24 hour store?" she asked desperately.

"Why?" The man wheezed, blowing smoke into her face.

"Please, sir, how far?"

"Down this street."

"Thankyou."

She kept running, the breath wheezing from her lungs. She could see the flashing lights up ahead, and she began to run faster, with a purpose, knowing her destination.

She reached the store, the name above zapping on and off. She walked inside, but couldn't see Booth anywhere. She ran to the counter.

"Excuse me?" she asked the man behind the window. "Did a man come in here in the past 5 minutes, muscular jaw, wearing a white T-shirt?"

The man had to think. "I don't recall, but I'm tired – I can't remember 30 seconds ago. I'm sorry."

Great, a man with no clue of anything.

Brennan ran out of the store, running blankly, searching everywhere. Where was Booth? She hadn't passed him on the way down. She could feel her stomach begin to heave again. Oh no, not now! She thought.

She found herself beside a park. She walked inside, taking deep breaths. She sat on the swings, slowly moving back and forth. She couldn't breath, and felt as though she could pass out at any moment. She moved over to the bushes and threw up.

She had to get back to the apartment. Booth could be anywhere, but she didn't want to risk running around at this time of night. That speech she had made to Booth was real – London_ was_ more dangerous then America.

She slowly began to walk back to the hotel. She hoped that Booth wasn't lying, beaten, on the ground in some unknown alley. She would never forgive herself if he was, but she was in no fit condition to find him.

She was already feeling very weak, her bones tumbling like jelly, threatning to collapse under her at any moment. The lack of food in her stomach made her vision blurry. She really wanted a cold drink of water.

She made it back to the Grand Hotel. It was still silent inside. She crept upstairs, hoping to open the door to a snoring Booth.

But instead she opened the door to pain and despair. The room was empty. Clothes were strewn about in their unpacked state. Brennan walked over and picked up one of Booth's shirts, hugging it to her chest.

She poured herself a glass of water, Booth staying in her mind. She managed to hold down some free cashew nuts. She began to feel a bit stronger. She walked over to the couch and lay down, trying to close her eyes and fall asleep, waking up to a smiling Booth making eggs for her.

But sleep wouldn't come, not with the thought of Booth out there alone.

So she got up again, taking the time to put on some jeans and a clean shirt with some lace-up, more convenient running shoes. She tucked a water bottle into her belt.

She was ready. She set out, ready to search for Booth once more. She spotted a flashlight next to the door, adn thought it best to carry that, too.

Outside, the morning wasn't getting any lighter. The street was eerily quiet. The smoking man was gone, the pavement deserted and empty.

She began to run. She turned her head in every direction, hoping to see Booth, spot him lurking behind a corner, hiding from her, safe and healthy. Every creak or groan she feared was from her partner.

She ran into all the stores that were open, asking whether they had seen Booth, but none had. She ran into a souvenier shop, desperately hoping he was in their, searching for a gift for Parker.

And there he was. His back to her, muscles rippling. He was holding something in his hands.

Brennan almost crid with relief. She ran into the aisle, running up, and hugging him from behind.

She prayed that it definately was him and not an unknown stranger.

But he turned at the feel of the hug. He smield when he saw her.

"Hey, Bones!"

"What are you doing here?" She gasped. Her breath was choked from running.

"Well, I got your medication, and then I saw this!" He held up a plastic container. Brennan tried to stifle a grin. It was another Bobble-Head Bobby, wearing a firemans outfit.

"I mean, I already have the police-force one, but I wanted to make a collection!"

He was grinning like a maniac. He had no idea how much Brennan had searched for him.

"I was so worried. I thought you'd been beaten."

Booth lowered his eyebrows. "Why'd you think that? Didn't you think I could take care of myself?"

"No, of course I did! I just....had this feeling."

"Huh." He was still curious and unsure of her answer.

"I'm just glad you're safe. I've been running around everywhere trying to find you."

He grinned. "You missed me, huh?"

Yes. "No, I was worried. These streets aren't safe." She began to shiver, though whether form the thought of his close fate or the cold she couldn't tell.

Botoh looked on her in concern. "We better get back, give you some medicine, get some sleep. If you want we can stay in the apartment tomorrow, go sightseeing another day?"

"No. Look, we'll work it out there."

Booth bought the bobble-head and they walked out onto the street. Brennan was shivering uncontrolably. Booth wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She huddled into his chest, trying to stay warm.

She heard a commotion behind them. She turned, and saw a gang coming towards them. Booth gently prised off Brennan's hands and turned to the group.

"Who's this chick you got?" the presumed 'leader' asked.

"She's mine. Now clear off. I'm good friends with Scotland Yard and could have you reported."

"Aw, we're cool, brother. But damn that's a nice chick."

Brennan desperately wanted to punch him in the face, but Booth held her back.

"Booth! I can look after myself."

"Want to come home with me, little lady? I'm better then this hunk."

Booth moved to punch the guy, but Brennan was quicker. She hit him square in the nose. He doubled over, bleeding.

Brennan turned and began to walk back to the hotel. All the other guys in the group whislted, howling for her to stay. It took all her focus not to turn around and pummel all of them.

They returned to the hotel room, sinking back onto their beds. Booth fell asleep immediately, loudly snoring.

Brennan closed her eyes, darkness enclosing her being, feeling comforted know she knew that Booth was safe.

Dreams flashed in her brain. It was the same dream as before, without the fog. The dream was sharper, more focused. And this time she found she could talk.

"Booth!" she screamed out as he was beaten. "Booth, run! Run away, Booth!"

Booth looked up, barely acknowledging her call.

"Booth!" she cried out, but her sound was drowned out by some unknown whistling.

Suddenly Booth was beside her. He hugged her, held her close. She felt safe.

And then she woke up. Booth was beside her on her bed, his arms around her.

"Booth, what are you doing?"

"Are you okay, Bones?" his face was pale, scared.

"I'm fine."

"You were crying out. My name. What's wrong, Bones?"

Should she tell him?

"Nothing," she whispered. "Just a bad dream."

* * *

I really hope it wasn't a boring chapter. Please give me ideas, people! Mine are failing! this is a pointless chapter, and probably isnt worthy to put in. any ideas for where this story should go, please tell me. thanks for reading


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